Category: Music
*Hope I Get Old Before I Die*
That is the new and fun book by David Hepworth. It focuses on the careers of rock stars who simply keep on going and do not retire.
Can we admit that Paul McCartney and also the Rolling Stones have made the best of this?
Here is one bit:
Of the ten most-visited graves in the USA, just one is the resting place of a president. The rest are all the graves of entertainers.
I liked this line:
‘Sometimes I feel like I work for Liz Phair,’ she [Liz Phair] says. ‘And I have years off but then, like, I work for her.’
You can order the book here.
Music compensation fact of the day
The Kanye West and Jay-Z song “No Church in the Wild,” for instance, sampled a single instrumental line from a failed solo album recorded in the late 1970s by the Roxy Music guitarist Phil Manzanera; the licensing proceeds provided Mr. Manzanera with “the biggest payday he had in the course of his entire career.” Or there is Mr. Hepworth’s revelation that some crazed fan supposedly paid more than $160,000 for a seat at Led Zeppelin’s 2007 reunion.
Here is more from the WSJ review of David Hepworth’s Hope I Get Old Before I Die, reviewed by D.J. Taylor.
My Conversation with the excellent Ian Leslie
I loved his new book on John and Paul, of the Beatles, and I am delighted to see it doing so well on the UK bestseller lists, and now also on the US lists. Here is my audio, video, and transcript with him. Here is the episode summary:
In this deep dive into one of music’s most legendary partnerships, Ian Leslie and Tyler unpack the complex relationship between John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Leslie, whose book John & Paul: A Love Story in Songs examines this creative pairing, reveals how their contrasting personalities—John’s intuitive, sometimes chaotic approach and Paul’s methodical perfectionism—created a unique creative alchemy that neither could fully replicate after the Beatles split.
They explore John’s immediate songwriting brilliance versus Paul’s gradual development, debate when the Beatles truly became the Beatles, dissect their best and worst covers, examine the nuances of their collaborative composition process, consider their many musical influences, challenge the sentiment in “Yesterday,” evaluate unreleased tracks and post-Beatles reunions, contemplate what went wrong between John and Paul in 1969, assess their solo careers and collaborations with others, compare underrated McCartney and Lennon albums, and ultimately extract broader lessons about creative partnerships.
Here is one excerpt:
COWEN: Do you think Paul’s song, “Yesterday,” is excessively sentimental?
LESLIE: No, I don’t. First of all, it’s not really sentimental in any way. I think it acquired this reputation because it does seem to come from a different tradition, perhaps a more easy-listening tradition in the first instance, although, I can hear echoes of music going far back from that in history.
But as a song about this person, this woman has left me and I have no idea why, it doesn’t then go on to describe how wonderful this girl is. Just says she’s gone and I don’t know why. It’s bleak. [laughs] The way he sings it is clipped, it’s brusque, it’s northern. It’s almost this northern folk sound to the way he sings it.
The string arrangement — he made sure that it wasn’t sentimental. He said to George Martin explicitly, “We’ve got to find a way of not making this sound saccharine.” So, George Martin asked the players not to play with vibrato or to play with very little vibrato. I think it’s very unsentimental, and in a way, it’s not that far off from “For No One,” which is an anti-sentimental song, where there’s very little hope.
COWEN: Or “Another Girl” even, right? The girls were leaving all the time in that song. It’s quite brutally about something very particular.
LESLIE: It’s interesting because I think in that year, 1965, with “Another Girl” and “I’m Looking Through You,” he is really soaking up, I think, from John. Or “The Night Before.” He’s leading into his Johness in the sense of he’s finding some anger and some hostility.
COWEN: “You Won’t See Me,” most of all.
The only topic was the Beatles, plus a bit on artistic collaboration more generally. In any case this was one of the most fun episodes for me. Definitely recommended, and again I am a big fan of Ian’s book John & Paul: A Love Story in Songs.
Nikolaus Matthes finishes The Art of the Fugue
What should I ask Ian Leslie?
Yes, I will be doing a Conversation with him. I loved his forthcoming book John & Paul: A Love Story in Songs. Ian has done other things too, but for the time being those don’t matter. This will be a Beatles episode, and also an episode about artistic collaboration.
So what should I ask him?
1969
1969 was a big year for me. Most of all, we left Fall River and moved back to New Jersey, but this time to Bergen rather than Hudson County — Billy Joel comments. I’ll cover Bergen County another time, here were three other developments of import in my seven-year-old life in 1969:
1. The United States landed a man on the moon.
My parents let me stay up late to watch this, thank goodness. Of course I was very excited, and we heard all about it in school. This event drove my later interest in science fiction, space exploration, and also travel by jet. None of those were directions my career or writings went in, but they were early intellectual influences. At this point in the game, how could you not watch Star Trek reruns?
Back then, we all knew something special was happening, even I knew at age seven. I also began to understand that the United States was the country that did this, and what that meant. So I became more patriotic. The command center at NASA seemed to me a great achievement, in a way more impressive than the spaceship.
2. The New York Mets won the World Series.
Alas, I was no longer a Red Sox fan. The important thing here is that the New York Mets season, along with the moon landing of that same summer, was the first thing I truly followed with all of my attention. I learned how to keep on top of something, at least to the greatest degree possible given my constraints (which were extreme, starting with no internet but hardly ending there). In 1968 I watched baseball games, but in 1969 I followed The New York Mets and absorbed all of the available information about them, including reading newspapers, listening to radio talk shows, and digesting statistics on a regular basis.
That is a tendency that has stuck with me, and I first practiced it then and there.
3. I received my first transistor radio.
I don’t hear people talk about this much any more, but for me it was like the arrival of the internet. All of a sudden I was in regular touch with a big chunk of the world. I could hear the new music that was out. Could listen to the news. Find out sports scores. Hear talk shows. Or whatever. The menu was very America-centric, and the sound was terrible, but none of that mattered. The information superhighway had been opened for me.
I heard the Jackson Five song “I Want You Back,” and the Beatles’ “Hey Jude.” Those tunes bored me quickly, and I returned to them and their excellence only later. But I knew they were out there, and I knew they were important. At least early on, I preferred The Archies “Sugar, Sugar,” Tommy Roe’s “Dizzy,” and oddities such as Zaeger and Evans “In the Year 2525.” How about “They’re Coming to Take Me Away”?
In fact they did not take me away, rather they ensconced me securely in New Jersey, in the momentous year of 1969.
What should I ask David Robertson?
Yes, David Robertson the conductor. He studied with Boulez and Messiaen, and arguably is the second best Boulez conductor ever. He also is famous for his recordings of John Adams. I find him consistently excellent, for instance his Unsuk Chin, Milhaud, or Porgy and Bess. Here is his Wikipedia page. Here is his TEDx talk on conducting. Here is his home page. He is very smart.
So what should I ask him?
Passive listeners on Spotify
I have been reading the new Liz Pelly book Mood Machine: The Rise of Spotify and the Costs of the Perfect Playlist. It is a very intelligent and well done book, though it is more pessimistic than I am about the future of music.
One central lesson of the book is just how many “passive” music listeners there are. In an earlier era they might have been content with muzak, even on the car radio (my father used to do that). But with Spotify, and many other related internet music services, the passive listeners can be very readily identified. They do not mind being fed AI-produced slop, or payola-driven songs in their feeds. For instance, some song producers, often serving up musical slop, will accept lower royalty rates in return for algorithmic promotion. The passive listeners accept this arrangement without complaint — maybe they just want background mood, or maybe they are not listening at all, and do not want the music to be too intrusive.
Obviously Spotify, or whichever service one has in mind, can track your behavior in this regard. Passive listeners can expect a stream of very low quality in the future, meaning quality as I would define it, not as they would.
Is it bad if so many listeners are passive? Well, it is not my ideal of the ideal philosophic republic.
Still, given that they exist I like the idea of setting them aside, segregated into their own easily-manipulated club. After all, they don’t seem to care about Chuck Berry and Brian Eno. Insofar as we succeed in segregating them, I would think many of the remaining algorithms become better and more in tune with what their users want. After all, the noise from the passive listeners has been removed from the calculations.
So I think of algorithms as a way of rewarding the good guys, and avoiding some of the pooling equilibria. What you call musical “slop,” I call the separating equilibrium.
Niall Ferguson on world music
Worlds collide, as Niall is interviewed (very effectively) in Songlines magazine, and yes I am a loyal subscriber. Excerpt:
As part of the Empire series, Ferguson also went to West Africa and filmed in Sierra Leone and, subsequently, Ghana and Senegal. He regrets not seeing Youssou N’Dour, who wasn’t going to be on stage until 2am, as they had to be up early to film. At the same time, he says he got turned on to Amadou & Mariam and Tinariwen. “But Africa’s such a vast continent you’ll never know all the music. [BBC] Radio 3 is often throwing things at me that I’m not expecting. Thank God the BBC is willing to play unusual and esoteric African music, and I’ve benefitted hugely from that eclectic programming.”
He is quick to mention Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Stars, who were formed by a group of Guinean refugees during the civil war in Sierra Leone. “Their song ‘Living Like a Refugee’ is an anthem for our times,” he says…
It’s such a gift to listen to [the] music of Tinariwen or Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Stars and enjoy it and not think ‘I’m now listening to African music.’ It’s just as life-affirming as Mozart.”
Recommended.
“By your culture, we shall know ye”
From President Trump:
At my direction, we are going to make the Kennedy Center in Washington D.C., GREAT AGAIN. I have decided to immediately terminate multiple individuals from the Board of Trustees, including the Chairman, who do not share our Vision for a Golden Age in Arts and Culture. We will soon announce a new Board, with an amazing Chairman, DONALD J. TRUMP! Just last year, the Kennedy Center featured Drag Shows specifically targeting our youth — THIS WILL STOP. The Kennedy Center is an American Jewel, and must reflect the brightest STARS on its stage from all across our Nation. For the Kennedy Center, THE BEST IS YET TO COME!
Here is the link, and I will keep an eye on what happens there and report back.
Those new service sector jobs
Oscar-winning film composer Hans Zimmer — who will perform live in Riyadh on Jan. 24 — is working on a new interpretation of Saudi Arabia’s national anthem, according Turki Alalshikh, chairman of the General Entertainment Authority.
Alalshikh revealed on X recently that he had also spoken with Zimmer about ideas for a new Riyadh Season concert and an original composition called “Arabia,” inspired by the Kingdom.
“Today I met someone who is considered one of the greatest musicians of our time … the legend Hans Zimmer,” Alalshikh wrote.
The post continued that the German composer — known for his work on films including “The Lion King,” “Interstellar,” “Gladiator” and “Dune” — was also offered the chance to create the soundtrack for the upcoming Saudi Arabia film, “The Battle of Yarmouk.”
Here is the full story, via Rasheed Griffith.
My Conversation with the excellent Joe Boyd
Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is the episode summary:
Joe Boyd was there when Dylan went electric, when Pink Floyd was born, and when Paul Simon brought Graceland to the world. But far from being just another music industry insider, Boyd has spent decades exploring how the world’s musical traditions connect and transform each other. His new book And the Roots of Rhythm Remain, is seventeen years in the making, and is in Tyler’s words “the most substantive, complete, thorough, and well-informed book on world music ever written.” From producing Albanian folk recordings to discovering the hidden links between Mississippi Delta blues and Indian classical music, Boyd’s journey reveals how musical innovation often emerges when traditions collide.
He joins Tyler to discuss why Zulu music became politically charged in South Africa, what makes Albanian choral music distinct from Bulgarian polyphony, what it was like producing Toots and the Maytals, his role in the famous “Dueling Banjos” scene in Deliverance, his work with Stanley Kubrick on A Clockwork Orange, his experiences with Syd Barrett and Pink Floyd, how he shaped R.E.M.’s sound on Fables of the Reconstruction, what really happened when Dylan went electric at Newport, how the Beatles integrated Indian music, what makes the Kinshasa guitar sound impossible to replicate, and how he maintains his collection of 6,000 vinyl LPs and 30,000 CDs, what he’ll do next, and more.
There are many, many segments of interest, here is the discussion of Dylan at Newport 1965:
COWEN: Now, as I’m sure you know, there’s a new Bob Dylan movie out called A Complete Unknown. The climactic scene in the movie is all about the Newport Folk Festival in 1965 where “Dylan goes electric.” You were the sound producer there, right?
BOYD: No, I was a production manager. There’s a character in the film who is credited with playing the part of Joe Boyd, the sound engineer. I think the actor who’s supposed to be playing me is at the sound controls. I haven’t seen the picture yet. But I was the production manager.
I was very concerned with the sound because I had been to the ’63 Newport Festival, and I thought it was a fantastic event. It was a never-to-be-forgotten, seeing Mississippi John Hurt and Doc Watson through the fog coming in off Narragansett Bay and Dylan linking arms with Joni and Pete and singing “We Shall Overcome.” But the sound was terrible. All through this festival of ’63, I felt the sound was really crap. You’d have a bluegrass band with a guy playing the fiddle, and you couldn’t hear the fiddle!
The first thing I did when I got behind my desk in June of ’65 in New York at George Wayne’s office was call up Paul Rothchild, the great producer, the guy who produced The Doors and Janis Joplin and so many things. I said, “Hey, Paul, why don’t you come up to Newport and mix the sound?” He said, “Okay, can I have three kin passes?” Meaning for his family: places to stay, passes to every event. I said, “Deal. You got it.”
So, Paul and I together sound checked everybody. Every single artist that appeared at Newport was sound checked in the morning by me and Paul except for Dylan, who we sound checked in the evening, six o’clock, between the afternoon show and the evening show, because Dylan wouldn’t get up in the morning to be sound checked. The guy on the board, the guy whose hands were on those mixers was Paul Rothchild, not me. I’ve never been a sound engineer. I don’t have any technical qualification to be a sound engineer. Neither did Paul for that matter, but he was better at it than I was.
COWEN: The controversy at the time — was it really about Dylan playing electric? Was it just about the poor quality of the sound? Was it about Pete Seeger being upset? What actually happened at that time?
BOYD: I think the controversy — you could see it coming for a month, if not more. To me, you can see it. Have you seen that film, The Other Side of the Mirror?
COWEN: I don’t think so.
BOYD: It’s basically Murray Lerner who shot that film festival, which is about the Newport Festival, has all the footage from ’63, ’64, ’65, ’66. The Other Side of the Mirror is all the Dylan footage from ’63, ’64, and ’65, and it’s fascinating. In ’63, he’s the idealistic singing about a coal miner, and Pete, everybody looking at him like he’s Woody Guthrie.
Then in the ’64, he does a workshop, and Pete Seeger introduces him as the voice of a generation, and he gets up to the microphone, and he sings “Mr. Tambourine Man.” You look at Seeger, who looks puzzled, slightly shocked. What is this? This isn’t a protest song. This isn’t a song you could sing at the barricades. This isn’t a song that’s going to move the youth to revolution. What is this?
That is the beginning of what happened in ’65, is Dylan moving away in a different direction, and he’d already recorded half an album with an electric band in the studio. Just before, in the weeks leading up to the festival, we had The Byrds’ “Mr. Tambourine Man,” electric version, on the Top 40 radio. We had Dylan, “Like A Rolling Stone” with an electric band on the radio.
It was Top 40 big business, mainstream popular culture moving into this delicate little idealistic corner called the Newport Folk Festival, which was based on mostly all-acoustic music and very pure, traditional, or idealistic. Everybody — Pete Seeger and Theodore Bikel and Alan Lomax, and a lot of people in the audience — sensed that this was a bull in a china shop, that this was big-time something moving into this delicate little world.
I was totally on Dylan’s side. Paul Rothchild and I were like, “Yes.” But in retrospect, I see Pete Seeger’s point, absolutely. I would contest — of course, I would, wouldn’t I — contest that the sound was awful. It was just very loud. Nobody had ever heard sound that loud. I think Rothchild pushed up the faders, but it had to be because it was the first moment of rock.
Nobody ever used the word “rock” before 1965. There was rock and roll, there was pop, there was rhythm and blues, but there wasn’t rock. This was rock because you had a drummer, Sam Lay, who was hitting the drums very hard. Mike Bloomfield — this was his moment. He cranked up the level on his guitar. You didn’t have direct connections from amps to the PA system in those days. You just had the sound coming straight out of the amp. So, with the sound of the drums, the sound of the bass, the sound of Bloomfield’s guitar, you had to turn the vocal up so that it would be heard over the guitar.
That escalation of volume is what shaped or defined the future of rock. It became really loud music. That was the first time anybody heard it. It was really shocking. There was probably a little distortion because the speakers weren’t used to it, but it was the kind of sound that would be normal two years later. But that night it wasn’t, and I think Newport and folk music and jazz never really recovered. Every young person who used to become a folk or a jazz fan became a rock fan.
Joe has an encyclopedic knowledge of so many areas of music, and I was honored to do this episode with him. Interesting throughout. Again I will recommend Joe’s new and extraordinarily thorough book And the Roots of Rhythm Remain: A Journey Through Global Music.
Updating the best of 2024 lists
Here are my additions to the year’s “best of” movies list:
All We Imagine as Light
A Real Pain (didn’t think I would like it, but it is very good)
Green Border
A strong finish, yes?
I’ve also been listening to Two Star & the Dream Police, and Mount Eerie’s Night Palace, not recommended for most of you but very good nonetheless.
As for the end of the year surprise book, one of the very best from 2024, there is Helen Castor’s The Eagle and the Hart: The Tragedy of Richard II and Henry IV. I’ll be writing more about it in 2025.
*A Complete Unknown*
I hate most biopics for their predictability, but loved this one. The Dylan character was remarkable, including his musical abilities. The film is willing to admit that Dylan might have been a jerk, no hagiography here. The Pete Seeger and Joan Baez characterizations were at least as good. It was a meaningful and instructive portrait of America in the 1960s. Everything feels real. Here is a very positive Cass Sunstein review.
As for imperfections, it bugged me a wee bit that the chronology of the songs and their order was off. And maybe it was ten minutes too long?
I think it is hard for younger people today to understand the import of Dylan. Does this movie solve that problem? I still am not sure.
Questions that are rarely asked
“Which do you think is the best symphony which you never have heard?”
It used to be the first two symphonies of Carl Nielsen, but yesterday I heard them. They are good, probably not great, but in any case I never had heard them before. I have heard more Haydn symphonies than you might think (all of them), so for me the answer is not one of those.
Perhaps now it is something by Lutoslawski? I only know two of them, and I like them. What else does this margin hold? And how long will I need to explore it?
This question gets at two issues. First, how do you assess matters you do not really know? What kinds of evidence do you bring to bear on answering this question?
Second, why do you stop at one margin rather than another? Why don’t you know whatever you think is the best symphony you have never heard? Was your last attempt in that direction such a miserable failure? Are symphonies really so bad? I think not. No matter who you are, there are still some good ones.
So what is stopping you?